What happens to us when we die? Do we join in some grand family reunion? Perhaps we frolic in the clouds with angels, dress in white and play harpsichords. Some of us may fear that we are destined to an eternity in a pit of fire. Or could the truth be as simple as we return to all that we remember of the year before our birth.
In some ways it remains undeniable that the dead continue to live on long after they have died. Their idealized, perfected personages live on in our dreams and memories. Unless we've opted for life as a hermit, we will undoubtedly live on in someone's dreams and memories. The real question is, will we continue to live even after all who remember us are dead?
There are people who claim to have contacted the dead. Houdini thought they were liars, although he remained hopeful. But not all contacts with the dead are made by people just trying to steal a dollar. It happens to regular people. For lack of a better explanation it has happened to me.
Does the acknowledgment of the reality of claimed contacts with the dead the same as saying we have sufficient proof of the reality? I don't think so. The reality and sincerity of an account is not the same as a verification of the perception of that event.
I do believe that it is safe to say that, at the very least, the departed continue to live in our dreams and memories. If confronted with a stressful situation of our own who better to provide comfort than the perfected persona of a passed loved one?
Given our natural desire to live it does not seem remarkable that people with near-death experiences are often greeted by a parent, grand-parent, Jesus, or someone recently deceased. What I might call a flaw in all of these accounts is, if the other side is so desirable why are our loved ones always sending us back?
Nevertheless, I can't disprove any near-death stories any more than they can be proven. While it is true that some are so ridiculous as to be obviously false and dome are frauds, I suspect most accounts represent an honest retelling of the person's experience. Generally, the only thing I doubt is the accuracy of the perception, not the honesty.
However, none of this rambling leaves me settled or resolved about the dead. I still don't know if it is better to take comfort in the possibility that life continues after death as suggested by myth or to seek answers not yet found.
Neither atheism nor agnosticism provides a satisfactory landing pad. They themselves represent a structure belief. Atheism assumes we know it all, or at least enough to discount possibilities. Agnosticism is in some ways chicken-shit atheism. Ultimate truth is unknowable therefore maybe, but leaning heavily towards maybe not.
Both theisms fail to consider that we don't know all that we don't know. (It did sound goofy but Donald Rumsfeld wasn't entirely wrong.) Nor do we know all that we will know. As a temporary landing pad atheism and agnosticism might make sense, but they don't really account for the long term. For that reason I've landed upon the almost Rumsfeldian, Possibilism.
Possibilism is, of course, an invented term. Since the term was invention it has been borrowed modified and dressed up slightly by various individuals... That's actually no worse than the many Protestant churches, all of which consider themselves Christian.
My take on Possibilism is that we have reached a point where many of the old myths and legends, even weekly horoscopes, can be discounted. We don’t hide them away to pull out at some later time. Perhaps for today that makes us atheist. The difference is that we don’t lose sight of the fact that an immeasurable universe remains mostly unknown and maybe possibly, we'll stumble upon an answer tomorrow.
Earlier on I hinted that I had not been immune to the inexplicable experience. I once had a two-way conversation for several minutes with someone who had died.
I was in the bedroom where my father had just died. Only he and I were in the room. Just then a person walked in dressed as a medic. There was nothing magical or mysterious accompanying his entry. There were no horns or lights from the heavens. He was working with the county to collect certain medications. In this case it was morphine. I didn't recognize him at first. But then I did. We spoke of things past and of the possibility of a future rendezvous.
It wasn't until after he left that recalled the last time I had seen him. It had been at a funereal. His.
I left the bedroom and went to the living room and kitchen to ask if anybody, there were more than 5 people present, had seen this person, or any person, pass through. They had not.
Over the years I have had time to invent rational explanations for this story. It is possible that at least one of those rationalizations is correct, yet nothing that I have ever conjectured as shaken the reality that I felt during that experience.
For better or worse, Possibilism, is no better than any other -ism at providing an answer. That is not what it is about. Naturally, I'd rather have the answer handed to me. Who wouldn't? But I have found it disingenuous to accept solutions with holes big enough to drive a truck through.
For now, I take comfort in knowing that I really don't know, I may never know, but on the other hand someday I just might know.
